


Moonshine (the Roaring Twenties)

by Attorney C (arh581958)



Series: #MarveyWeek [18]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, Beaches, Day7 - Free Day, Fireworks, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, No Lube, Parties, Period Typical Attitudes, Successful!Mike, The Great Gatsby Reference, bareback, bartender!Mike, in the forrest, marveyweek, old cars, retro cars, sassy!Mike, sqeakeasy, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7396618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/pseuds/Attorney%20C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey's had a long hard day wrangling wannabe mobsters for his bootlegging boss. All he really wants to do is drink away his stress in his brother's sqeakeasy when a one-night stand with the bartenders throws him completely off his axis, pulling him into a world that he ones thought he understood.</p><p>(Or: just another reason to re-imagine Marvey meeting in a 1920s!AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonshine (the Roaring Twenties)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ["Marvey Appreciation Week"](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/post/144878259395/fuckyeahmarvey-marvey-appreciation-week-july), Day 7 - _Free Day_ , featuring "Great Gatsby". 
> 
> Thank you to the awesome, Sam, for beta reading this!

Shady drinks. Shady bar. Shady club. Harvey Specter had crawled his way out of his dump, and now he crawled right back. He hasn’t been back here since he left for law school. Nothing’s changed; still the same squeaky red leather couches, the smell of tobacco seeped into the grains of wood, and the jazz band that played every Wednesday evening. Same old speakeasy. It felt like he had gone back in time. 

“Need a refill?”

Harvey tore his eyes away from his empty glass. “Uhm yeah, sure, just get me whatever you have.” 

He sat on a bar stool mulling over his latest case—bootlegging in this day and age. Who wasn’t making illegal booze during the prohibition? Everyone did it. It wasn’t his first nor would it be his last. That sort of thing came with the territory of who he worked for but it didn’t mean that it got easier. Nowadays, money ranked better than justice. 

A tumbler of pale amber moonshine slid in front of him. 

“What’s this?” He asked, tapping it with his old glass. 

“A little something-something,” the guy behind the counter answered with a smile. He found himself following the man’s jawline to his cheekbones straight up to his eyes. Damn, if it wasn’t the prettiest set of baby blue eyes he’d ever seen. 

“A little something-something?” He picked up the glass and gave it a cursory slip. It smelled strongly of illegal homemade liqueur with a hint of something sweet. “This better not have some kind of narcotic in the mix.” He eyed the guy from the rim of his glass. “Is that… honey?” 

“Ye _ p _ .” The p-sound popped between the guy’s lips. Harvey was drawn to the plump flesh. “You gonna drink it or not? My ass’ gonna pop outta here soon ‘nough. Shift’s over.” He sounded just on the right edge of pissed, not that Harvey cared. 

“Yeah?” He felt his dick twitch inside his pants at the blatant offer. “What makes you even think that I’m interested.” 

The guy gave him a saucy smile, one that reached his twinkling blue eyes with teeth peeking from between his lips. “Well, for starters…” He licks his lips, and Harvey follows the movement. “… you haven’t decked me yet which means I’ve been lucky so far. I think, maybe, luck’s just starting to come my way tonight.” 

Harvey sipped his moonshine. A hint of sweetness chased after the spiciness. “Lady luck might be overshooting it there, kid. What time do you get off?”

There’s a smile unlike anything he’s ever seen before—it lights up the kid’s whole face making all the socialites and performers look like dull stones beside this gem of a boy.

“Perfect timing. I get off right now.”

***

They made their way to the backroom of the backroom, the secret getaway for the secret establishment behind what appeared to be a normal Italian family restaurant on the outside. It occurred to him sometime between tugging off his suspenders and pushing down the guy’s knickers that he left his homburg at the bar. Also, that fucking some nameless guy in his brother’s club might have been a bad idea.

Of course, all that blew away the minute he sunk his cock inside the kid.

*** 

“What’s your name?” He asked, remedying at least a part of the problem. They laid in bed, still naked, with the sheets haphazardly thrown over their cooling bodies. The room wasn’t anything special—small, four walls, a rickety single bed, a desk with a pile of books in one corner and a dresser on the other. Their clothes scattered around the floor in chaos. 

“Mike,” the kid huffed into his elbow and arms while he lay on his stomach on the wet spot. Hickeys, teeth marks, and finger bruises littered down the cure of his back. The sheets barely covered half his ass but he didn’t seem to care about the exposure. 

Harvey rarely fucked gentle when alcohol pumped through his system. As much as he liked seeing his partners all marked up, women cried abuse whenever he tried. He’d never even thought of trying it with another man before tonight. His brain was too muddled up. but he knew it felt good. 

“What’s yours?” The question caught him by surprise. 

Instead of answering, he snagged the half-empty pack of smokes on the table and lite one up. The taste of cheap tobacco stains his lips, darker and darker with every drag.

“I don’t do names.”

Mike snorted bitterly. “Yeah? Well, thanks, I kinda figured that out. I work in a bar in New York. It doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Just means I’m broke.” He shifted to his elbows, leaning over to pluck the cig straight from Harvey’s lips. “Assholes don’t get any of my hard-earned smokes. It’s a one-time deal. I know the drill. Now, get out of my bunk before my boss gets here.”

There’s palpable tension in the air between them. A sharp push forces Harvey of the bed. His knees moan in protest against the hardwood. He stands up with a grunt, brushing his knees off. 

“You do this sort of thing often?”

Mike just stared at him like he was an eyesore, with the cigarette hanging loosely between his finger and lips. He blew a perfect ring of smoke and raised his eyebrow. “What’s it to you, Mr-I’m-too-good-for-names? I thought you weren’t interested.” 

Something thrummed inside Harvey. The kid, Mike, had a type of street-rat spunk that he will never admit to missing. Men he surrounded himself with nowadays talked tough but didn’t have enough balls to back it up; all bark but no bite. From the quiet bartender to the snappy bed partner, Mike seemed to be the completely opposite—all bite with none of the airy barking. 

“In you, no, I’m not.” He tugged on his pants, thankful that his suspenders survived the frantic stripping, feigning an air of disinterest. He reeled Mike in like a fish to bait. “But I sure as hell want to know how often you bring men in for sex in my brother’s club.” 

Mike paled. “Shit.” The cigarette clung to the corner of his mouth like a lifeline, threatening to fall on inconvenience places where the sheet didn’t cover his flaccid groin.  

“Damn straight.” Harvey gloated wordlessly. He finished dressing—pulling on his tidy white undershirt, buttoning up his wrinkled shirt, and snapping his suspenders into place. “So, you gonna answer me, punk, or is it something I can ask Marcus myself?” He fished his tie off the floor and started looping it around his neck—quick, efficient, and practiced.  

“Well, shit.” Mike threw his head back against the wall, hands carding through his chaotic hair before covering his eyes. He erupted in a fit of self-pitying giggles. “Figures that I’d fuck the guy he warned the girls not to mess with. He didn’t say that you swung both ways. How was I supposed to know?” 

“I don’t.” Harvey gritted his teeth irritably. “You going to answer or not? This the type of thing happening behind closed doors around here?” 

“No!” Mike yelled just as loud. “I don’t o’right? It hurts like a motherfucking bitch by the way, so thanks for asking. I knew something was off when you shoved it right away. You might have ripped something. Man, shitting’s going to be a bitch.” He let out a sigh, trying to relax. The wince that twisted his face when he moved gave him away. 

Somehow, in the back of his mind, Harvey already knew that but he attempted to push it down. It unwound something inside him. There was no way a seasoned whore would be that tight. Thank heavens that Mike had dark sheets. The evidence of his lost control must still be there.

“Are you alright?” 

This time, it’s his turn to jostle Mike. 

“What?” 

He cleared his throat. “I asked if you were alright… I mean is your body… is your ass going to be… fine?” 

Uncertainty flashed in Mike’s eyes but it flickered out in an instant. 

“Why the fuck do you care? I compliment your gigantic dick and suddenly you  _ care _ ?” He looked like he did some kind of mental counting in his head, mumbling more to himself than Harvey. “I’m closing next. I clocked out at eleven. We had two, three hours at max.” “If I sleep the whole day and don’t get out of bed, I can probably walk by tonight. Or I can call in sick but that’s…” 

Only then did he realize that Harvey hadn’t left the room. “The hell are you still doing here, Harvey? No, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t pick your wallet last night if that’s what you’re thinking. Bossman told us your name. I told you; being a barboy doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I remembered, okay? Why don’t you just leave while they’re still making a racket outside. No one will notice you.”

Harvey did. He slipped out of the door and went home to his empty apartment. Mike’s scent still lingered on his skin mixed in with the smell of moonshine and tobacco. 

***

The next day, Harvey visited his brother’s place again.  

“Harvey!” Marcus greeted him with a big dopey smile that he remembers from childhood. “You coming back two days in a row—this is certainly as surprise.” Harvey whipped his head in shock, but Marcus simply patted him on the back genially. “What? Can’t your baby brother know how to run his own business? I’ve got eyes and ears even when I’m not here. Besides, not everyone is pompous enough to embroider their initials on their homburg. It’s in the office.”

Harvey half-heartedly trailed behind. “Yeah, th-uh-that’s right. Look, uh, I’ve got a meeting this afternoon. So, do you think we can make this quick?”

“Come inside, Harvey.”

Marcus’ office was located at the back of the Italian store front. It had two entrances: the main door which led to the restaurant and a hidden door behind the bookshelf to the speakeasy. He’s been managing the place for a little over five years as a wedding gift from his father-in-law, Don De Medici.

“So,” Marcus said, handing Harvey the hat from the top of his desk, “are we going to have a supply problem with the moonshine anytime soon? I heard your boss ran into some bootlegging charges. You gonna make that go away?”

Harvey plucked the hat a little harsher than usual. “Course I am. That’s what I do. I make all his problems go away. Trust me, those charges won’t be any problem.”

“Okay, okay, so what’s boiling your eggs, bro, calm down. You want a drink? It’s on the house. Christ, I haven’t seen you this wound up since mom left dad. Draft, bourbon, whiskey, scotch? Or you want some of your boss’ top shelf moonshine?”

“Moonshine,” he answered, the taste of last night’s drink. He slid down on the couch uncharacteristically lush for a small-town restaurateur. He knew that Marcus had one or two gangsters in this very room during his tenure.

Marcus pulled a jar from his office booze cabinet and two glasses. He poured about four finger then handed it to his brother. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Harvey muttered, accepting the drink and then sipping it. It tasted nothing like last night’s moonshine. He trampled down on the urge to ask about it, and misdirects instead. “You asked me a question about my job. Now, I get to ask one as well. A little birdie told me that you warned the girls about me. Now how does that make the playing field fair?”

“It wasn’t supposed to.” Marcus gave Harvey a pointed look. “It was supposed to keep you away. Every time you come by, one of my girls ends up leaving the next day, complaining of a broken heart. Do you know how hard it is to keep the pimping side of things lucrative when I’ve got girls disappearing? Speaking of which, no one’s quit today. Something happen?”

“Your runt of a guard dog barked at me. You know, short blond hair and blue eyes? Real skinny too, like the wind will blow him away or something. So, no, I didn’t get to fuck any of your girls last night.”

“Runt? You meant Mike?” Marcus laughed. “He’s a feisty one, ain’t he? What was he doing in the back?”

Harvey looked at his brother incredulously. “What do you mean  _ he wasn’t supposed to be there _ ? What kind of work does he do for you anyway?”

Marcus froze, glass half-way to his lips but he put it down. “Accountant,” he said plainly, returning Harvey’s look with a more observing stare. “He’s our new accountant, managing the books and what-not, trying to keep it all organized but not. You know what I mean. For when the cops come snooping around. Why? Is there going to be a problem? Did Mike say anything to you?”

Harvey waved him off, feigning nonchalance. “It’s nothing, Marcus, I was just… surprised. Kid didn’t look like he’s an  _ accountant _ . He looks like he’s barely out of high school!”

“Linda said the exact same thing. Found him sitting by the doorframe on a rainy Sunday night, and took him in for the evening. How were we to know that the kid’s a Wharton graduate with a CPA certification? We fed him some broth. He took one look at the books and saw that Frankie was squandering cash. Didn’t say where he came from or why he was here. Either way, we offered him a job with us for a reasonable pay and free lodgings.”

“So a boy genius with a mysterious past, huh?” Harvey scoffed as he downed the last of his drink and putting it on the desk. “Well, I’ve got a few more minutes free. Mind sending me away with some food before I go?”

“Sure. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

They stepped out of the room and came face-to-face with Mike himself. The kid looked like he was caught stealing from the cookie jar when he recognized the Specter siblings.

“Ahh, Mike,” Marcus greeted, oblivious to the palpable tension between the two men, “Just the man I wanted to see. Harvey and I were just talking about you. Heard you told him off from preying on one of the girls last night, and saved me a load of trouble. Join us for lunch. I’ll have the kitchen bring something out. As a thank you.” His tone left little room to negotiate.

“Uh, yeah, sure, thanks, bossman.” Mike shuffled on the balls of his feet. He dressed better than he did yesterday in a crisp cotton blue long-sleeved button-down with a swanky cotton vest and a neatly tied bow-tie. He slicked back his hair with a bit of pomade. He sounded strained when he talked. “You know I’ll never turn down a free meal.”

Marcus strode a few paces ahead, hollering out towards the kitchen.

“So, accountant, huh?” Harvey asked smugly, feeling like he just caught Mike in a cage. “Funny how you never mentioned that tiny little detail last night.”

Mike rolled his with a groan, hiding the limp in his step. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed, “Like you’re Mr. Tell-it-all. Bet you were waiting for the right time to tell me your brother’s my boss, didn’t you? And by the way, I wasn’t in uniform last night. If you bothered for more than two seconds to think with your head and not your dick, you would have figured that I wasn’t a bartender easily. So don’t come crying to me.” He misjudged his step and hit his hip on the table.

“Jesus fuck!” It caused him to stumble back and trip, twisting his ankle. He fell to the ground with a clatter.

“Are you alright?” Harvey dropped to his knees on instinct. A part of him screaming that Mike’s knees gave away because he was dealing with a much bigger problem. “Christ,” he muttered. Mike’s hair was a mess and water from the vase splashed his clothes. “Is your…” He leaned in to whisper the next part, “Is your, you know, alright?”

A couple of waiters immediately rushed to clean-up the mess. Mike waved away their help, flushing in embarrassment. “Get off.” He shoved Harvey on the shoulder. “I’m fine. Just not coordinated, okay? Will you give me some space to stand up or are you going to crowd me in like some pervert? Move!”

“Jesus, fine, be stubborn,” Harvey scoffed, moving away. He watched as Mike try and fail to stand two time before offering a hand. He tried very hard not to be smug about it. When Mike stubbornly refused, he rolled his eyes thrust his hand closer. “I’m just helping you up. Don’t be such a wimp about it. Just go on and take my hand so I can pull you up.”

Mike huffed and grabbed Harvey’s hand. Harvey let him haul himself up on his own.

“Oww, shit, fuck!” Mike toppled over again. He let out a soft whine of pain while he fought to stay upright. “Let me go, dammit.”

Marcus appeared before he could say anything else. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, boss. It’s just a sprained ankle. I’ve had one before and I know what it feels like. I just have to keep my weight off it.” He tried to push of Harvey with some struggle. Anyone within a viewing distance could see the struggle to keep standing. “I’ll take a raincheck on the meal, bossman, unless you send it up. I might be better if I stay put up in my room for the day. I’ll work on the books there.”

Marcus glanced between Mike and his other patrons, then gave his brother a pleading look. “Harvey, do you mind helping him up the stairs? I know you’re busy, but I can’t spare anyone right now with this rush. I can’t have him dying from a bad fall in the staircase. It’ll be quick. The food will be here when you get back.”

“Bossman, I’m good.” Mike shook his head fiercely. “Really, you don’t have to baby me. The handrails exist for a reason.”

“Mike,” Marcus warned, “You look like you’re about to fall any second now. Insurance doesn’t cover employee stupidity. I’ll send someone up with your food and the first aid kit. Harvey, are you gonna be an ass about this, or are you gonna help your brother’s employee out?”

Harvey barked out a laugh. “Sure that’s fine as long as he promises not to bite my ear off. You gonna let me help you out, Mike? Or are you going to be make this more difficult for yourself?”

Mike let out a heavy sigh. “Fine, if it’s the bossman’s orders.”

“Oh, it’s my orders alright,” Marcus assured.

“Come on, then, give me your arm.” Harvey offered, using the so-called assistance to slide his body firmly against Mike with a hand on the other man’s waist. “Put one on my shoulder and the other on my arm. I promise not to drop you if you behave.”

Mike grumbled under his breath but said nothing.

***

They waddled their way out of the general public, then Mike’s knees buckled. This time, Harvey caught him.

“Alright, that’s it,” Harvey groused, sliding an arm under Mike’s knees and hauling the kid up—bridal style.

“Harvey, what the hell! Put me down!”

“Stop your fidgeting, or I’ll drop you. You’re not as light as you look, kid.” Harvey gritted his teeth at the strain of carrying a full-grown man in his arms who wasn’t keen on cooperating with him. “If you keep wiggling around, we will both end up with broken necks at the foot of this staircase!”

Mike crossed his arms with a pout.

“Thank you.” Harvey huffed as they climbed the steps. The corridor looked completely different from the way it did last night. Smoke had somehow eased from the air but the smell still remained. Strange how the board creaked deafeningly with every step now that the speakeasy wasn’t blasting the corridors with music.

Mike fumbled with a key to his room before they entered. Even the inside of the room felt completely different. Harvey noted the same browning white walls, the small bed, the desk in the corner with the stack of books, and the dressers—yet, it  _ felt _ like he entered another room. It could be the lighting. It could be their current circumstance.

“You can put me down over there. Then you can leave.” The rough command pulled him away from his thoughts.

He replied with a noncommittal hum. He crossed the room in seven strides and carefully lowered Mike on the mattress without jostling the sprained ankle, noting with a frown that the sheet had been changed to a pale green color.

Mike avoided the silent question. “What are you still going here? You got me here, didn’t you? You can leave, Harvey.” He bent his leg to examine the extent of the damage.

Harvey went down on his knees before he comprehended moving, hands around Mike’s swollen ankle.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Let me see,” Harvey demanded because he needed to see. A part of him, an irrational and probably hormone-driven part of him, wanted to secure Mike’s safety and physical health. He fought the urge to run his hands through his hair at the risk of messing it up. Instead, he palmed unsteadily at the sides, flattening it even further.

“Look…” He searched long and hard for his words. “I just… let me see okay? I just—I’ll just look. Let me do that and I’ll be out of your hair. Okay?” He stared at Mike’s big blue eyes, wordlessly pleading.

“Okay.” Mike finally nodded after what felt like forever. “Harvey, wha—” A knock on the door interrupted him. “That might be the kit and the ice pack. You better go get it. S’not like I can hobble over there. I mean I could, but I have a fully-abled man at my command. Why waste it?”

Harvey cracked into a smile. “Don’t get used to it, kid.”

“Mike,” Mike corrected. Harvey glanced back over his shoulder, hand frozen on the door knob. “It’s not kid or punk or boy. My name is  _ Mike _ . Use it.”

“Whatever you say,  _ Mike _ .”

The guy at the door seemed surprised that Harvey opened the door. Nevertheless, he handed over the metal first aid kit and a medical bag filled with ice. No pleasantries or thank-yous were exchanged. If Harvey were to be completely honest, the guy fidgeted like a trapped animal and simply wanted to bolt out of there.

Shaking his head, Harvey strode back into the room. “Alright, Mike, let’s get that ankle of yours patched up. Give me a minute to see if anything’s broken.” He closed the gap between them then sat, cross-legged, at the side of the bed. “Gimme your foot,” he ordered, patting down his right knee. “I’ll have a look.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a guy who knew first aid,” Mike mused while Harvey gently took off his shoes.

“Why? Do I seem like that big of an asshole to you?” Harvey worked his way around the limb, pressing a bit and checking for deformities. He ran through the standard motions assessment and found nothing wrong or out of place. The lack of noise or witty retort irked him. “Come on, Mike, no nothing? What happened to that sharp tongue of yours, huh? Gonna give me the cold shoulder now?”

“Harvey.”

His name sounded far too quiet on Mike’s lips. He dared to look up. The expression on Mike’s face was one he couldn’t read nor describe.

“What?” He blurted out on instinct. He grabbed a bandage from the kit. If he kept his hands preoccupied, then the shaking wouldn’t be that noticeable.

“What are you doing?”

“I…” Harvey stopped mid-way, hands stock-still over Mike’s ankle. He lowered his head to stare at where the white bandage ended and Mike’s pale skin showed. “Look, I don’t know, okay? But I can’t help thinking that this is somehow my fault for… for…”

“For fucking me with next to no prep last night and tearing up my ass?” It was teasing.

“Yeah,” he exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling like a little weight melted off his shoulder. “Yeah that. Look, Mike, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“I get it, Harvey,  _ Jesus,  _ would you stop making it more awkward than it already is? I’m not gonna tell your brother. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Hell, if I did, we’d be in the same boat anyway. Clearly, it was a mistake. It’s not going to happen again. O’right? Let’s be adults about this ‘kay—hey, ouch! Watch your hand, man, I’m already injured!”

“Shit.” Harvey dropped Mike’s foot like a time-bomb. “Shit, Mike, that’s— _ Christ! _ That’s not what I meant when I apologized. Just—argh, come on, give me back your foot, I’m not done bandaging it. You’ll mess it up, and it’ll set wrong!” As harsh as his words sounded, none of that frustration reflected with the way he held Mike’s ankle.

“Then what…?”

“I like you, okay?” Harvey sighed heavily, hands clenching and unclenching on his lap. “I don’t know why. I can’t understand it. But I think I like you. I wanna see more of you, and it’s not just because I thought the sex was great—it was but it wasn’t  _ that  _ great. I keep thinking that, you know, maybe it’ll get better if I knew you more.”

“ _ You _ like  _ me _ ?” Mike asked in disbelief. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a man, Harvey. Two men don’t work out like that. Sure we’ll fuck but that’s it. There can’t be anything more than that. It was just a fuck, and I’m not looking for a repeat performance anytime soon—or in the next few months, probably.”

“We don’t have to fuck, Mike, that’s not what I want,” Harvey said determinedly. “Not unless you want to. I mean maybe you can fuck me, instead. You’ve got the peg and I have the hole. And, crap, that didn’t come out right. We’ve both got working parts.  _ Fuck _ . That didn’t some out right either. What I meant to say was that—”

“Ouch!” Mike yelped, startling Harvey.

“What happened? Did I wrap it too tightly?” Harvey’s eyes widened in panic.

Mike rubbed his arm with a wince. “No, wasn’t you, I pinched myself, I needed to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming this whole thing up. I thought I heard you say that you wanted to… go out with me? Did I hear you right or was I just hallucinating then too?”

Harvey gently rested Mike’s foot on his knee, and started chucking. “Again, huh? So I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve fantasized about me, eh, Mike?”

“That’s not...!” Mike refused to meet his eye. “Are we done? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure the bossman will be looking for you.”

“No, we’re not.” Harvey tentatively placed a hand over Mike’s. “I’m serious, Mike. I wanna see more of you outside of this shady little bar in a shady part of town. I wanna get to know you and see, I don’t know, and see if this thing will work out. I know that I’m not the only one who feels something here, and fuck I’m sounding like a really badly written Hollywood girl here.”

Mike threw his head back laughing. “Yeah, you do.” Harvey snorted. “No, shit, you  _ are  _ serious! Fuck. How did that happen? You barely even know me!”

Harvey squeezed their hands. “I want to. God help me, I must be crazy, but I want to. I’m not going to deny it. I want to get to know you, learn everything about you, know everything there is to know. And, Christ, I’m sounding like a broken record. Can you stop me now if you aren’t interested?”

Mike bit his lip, but it curved into a small smile. “I kind of like you all flustered up. It’s… different. Nice.”

“Nice, nice is good.” Harvey beamed, cracking a large dopey grin. “Is that a yes?”

For a moment, Mike looked like he might say yes but he pulled back. “No,” he shook his head with a frown. “I—I don’t think I can. We’re two  _ guys _ , Harvey. That—us—it’s never going to work out. Not to mention it’ll kill your job, and I work for your brother and… no, no, it’s just not going to work. I’m sorry, I—”

Harvey stopped Mike’s blabbering with a kiss—a long passionate kiss for the sake of kissing instead of a prelude to sex, kind of kiss. And by the time they broke apart, both of them needed to gulp down large gulps of air to make up for the lack of oxygen, panting into each other’s open mouths.

“Still think this is a bad idea?” He dropped his head on Mike’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Mike answered, nosing along Harvey’s hairline. “Come up here for a sec.” Harvey followed, and Mike pressed their lips together once more. “But, I’m the king of bad ideas, so why the fuck not if you’re gonna kiss me like that again.”

Harvey chuckled into the kiss. “My boss, Jay Gatsby, is having another party this Saturday. He hosts one almost every week. You must have heard of him. He lives over by West Egg. It’s the really big, really loud house with a beachfront a block wide. I’ll take you as my plus one.”

“Okay…? Isn’t he gonna get suspicious?”

“Relax.” Harvey smirked. “Jay doesn’t really like joining in. Besides, I doubt he’ll notice one more guest in a crowd of hundreds. It’ll be fun. Free booze, free food, and a room if you’re willing to bunk with me for a night. I’ve got a room on the upper floor that he lets me use exclusively with a great view of the waters—” He leaned in slowly as he talked, inching ever closer, “—and nice,  _ big _ , windows. You can fuck me against it.”

“Christ, Harvey!” Mike tapped their foreheads together. “You make one hell of a sales pitch.”

“I damn well should. I used to sell shit door-to-door to get through college. What do you say? I’ll pick you up bright and early at the alley entrance? Say… I don’t know, seven am? We can get breakfast at the diner by 53 rd with the really good waffles.”

“What if I’m a pancakes kind of guy? Deal breaker?” Mike grinned stupidly.

Harvey licked his lips, lifting his head so that they were nose-to-nose. “Naah. I’ll manage. So, you say yes yet? Cause my knees are starting to kill me.”

Mike chomped on his bottom lip without warning, making Harvey yelp. He burst out laughing.

“I’ll see you on Saturday.”

***

Not even Marcus’ warning tone telling him that “Mike’s not some brunette socialite bimbo, Harvey, we actually  _ do _ need an accountant. You’re playing with fire.”, removed the silly little grin on Harvey’s face when he left the building.

The weekend couldn’t come any sooner. It was only Tuesday.

***

True to his word, Harvey picked up Mike bright and early on Saturday morning. It would be the first time he actually used his standing invitation to bring a guest along. None of the girls he ever dated intrigued him enough to warrant an offer. Mike, on the other hand, was a completely different experience altogether. Just like now.

“Woah,” Mike came out whistling the moment he saw the car, “Ain’t she a beaut’! Tell me she’s yours, Harvey.” He ran his fingers near-reverently over the hood of Harvey’s Red 335 Roadster. “Cleaned and polished to perfection. Someone’s excited for this weekend, huh? Because I am now. I bet she purrs like lion, doesn’t she?”

Harvey’s face almost split in half. He couldn’t stop his grin. “Yeah,” he answered, pulling the cigarette from his lips and crushing it his sole. “She’s the very first thing I bought with my first paycheck. Picked everything out myself. Don’t get to drive he too often though but I make sure she’s safe. Come on, put your bags in back.”

“You know…” Mike trailed off as Harvey started the engine. It did, indeed, purr like an animal. “You can skip breakfast and, I don’t know, stop by the road somewhere and do some very nasty things to mess up your pretty leather interior.”

Headless of who might see, Harvey grabbed Mike by the back of the neck and hauled the younger man into a kiss.

***

They ended up fucking on an off-road a few miles from West Egg with their sweaty palm prints smudging up the freshly waxed hood.

***

The weekend party was already in full swing when they arrived. Unlike the other random or seemingly anonymous partygoers, Harvey took a side entrance to parking garage where his initials were beautifully embossed on a shiny silver plate hanging on the ceiling.

Door men came, seemingly out of nowhere, to assist with their bags. Harvey was accustomed to Gatsby’s all-in style of hospitality but Mike wasn’t. He held his bag in a white knuckle grip while the attendant patiently waited by his door.

“Relax,” Harvey reassured, “They’ll take the bags to my room through the service lift. We’ll take the private one directly to the residential suites since only a few people have access to the basements. It’s mostly just staff. Guest’s cars are valeted.”

Mike relented but his eyes followed the uniformed man who had his bag. “Damn, Harvey, your boss must be like some really, really rich dude, huh? I mean I’ve heard of the name but it doesn’t really register much if you’re not a New York native. All I know is that he had business all over the place.”

Harvey refused to comment on it. “Mr. Gatsby has a wide-range of interests, but, come on, Mike, I thought I brought you here to have some  _ fun _ and not bore you with business talk. Do you want me to start asking about sales figures and bookkeeping?”

“Alright, alright, fine, no more asking about your boss.” Mike backed down with a slight smile painting his lips. They reach the elevator, an ornate ludicrous thing with metal painted to look like gold, or perhaps a layer of it  _ was _ gold, and its buttons in dark black paint as a sharp contrast.

Harvey made a small noise at the back of his throat and pressed his floor. “Good, because that would take all the sexy out of this weekend.” Wolfishly, he crowded Mike to the glass-paneled wall, a mischievous grin. “I hope you’d be more interested in getting to know  _ me _ —” he nipped Mike’s ear “—or maybe each other.” He emphasized his point by nibbling on a pulse point. 

Mike pushed him away before a hickey could form. “Hey, hey, I thought we agreed on no marks, right? Come on, man, I don’t want to feel self-conscious about a mark on my neck the whole time were on the floor.”

“Alright.” Harvey stepped back, liking the nice flush to Mike’s cheeks coupled with the slightly rumpled appearance. “We should freshen up before we go down. You’ll never know who you’ll meet at one of these things—the mayor, the commissioner, or that starlet from that Hollywood film that you barely even remember.”

“I highly doubt the last one,” Mike said with a laugh, “I think I have pretty good memory. As long as I’ve seen it once, I’ll remember it.”

Harvey cocked his eyebrow at that. “Oh, really, is that a fact?”

“Yepp.”

The elevator bell chimed as it came to a stop. The corridors on this floor weren’t as loud as the basement, but the same elaborate decorative motif of extravagance remained the same. Small two-tiered chandeliers lighted the wide hall with its wall covered in ceiling-to-floor dark wood and paintings, so many paintings.

“H.R.S.,” Mike read the door, “I know H and S but what does the R stand for?”

“Reginald,” Harvey answered without really thinking. Then, the realization dawned on him. “Well,  _ fuck _ , you got that out of me like it was nothing.” He stared, wide-eyed, at Mike as the engine’s purr quieted down. “It took at least half a year before I told Jay my second name.”

Mike laughed, happy and light. “Damn, I guess that makes me special then.”

“Damn straight.” Checking his pocket watch, Harvey grinned even wider when he saw the time. “We’ve got a couple more minutes before dinner gets served. How about I show you just how  _ special _ I think you are?”

Mike’s only reply was to grab Harvey by the back of the head, and soon the room filled with grunts, pants, and furniture getting knocked off it’s spots.

***

No one noticed when they entered the dining room late for dinner. Harvey led Mike into the ballroom. They both wore dark suits—Harvey donned a classic black and white tuxedo while Mike wore his best three-piece suit in dark blue.

Chandeliers twinkled over the large ballroom. The room could easily fill hundreds. Soft jazz played from the balcony orchestra, with a handful of pairs already dancing on the floor. They missed the served courses but the free-flowing buffet stayed open.

“Come on, let’s get some food before we go to the table,” Harvey offered, gesturing the spread of long tables stationed across two walls. The serviced dinner would have been more ideal for a first timer like Mike. If Mike’s gasp was anything to go by, the small inconvenience was worth it.

“There’s so much  _ food _ !” Mike bounced over the buffet on excitement, like a child being released in the toy store for the very first time or Harvey’s first time holding a baseball in his hands. The innocent enthusiasm was refreshing to see. Being in this for so long can desensitize the experience.

Harvey chuckled along, inserting explanations here and there for dishes which Mike was unfamiliar with. They only made if halfway through the first wall, their full plates precautious balanced on their palms as they wove through the crowd.

“This is so unbelievable, Harvey, so unbelievable! I haven’t seen this much food in my entire life! How does anyone not get  _ fat _ in this?” Mike motioned to the crowd. “Can’t you see that everyone here is so fucking  _ gorgeous _ ? It’s like I’m on a movie set or something!”

“Seeing how many here  _ are _ actors on Hollywood, I assume that anything less would be an insult.” Harvey tapped a server on the shoulder and asked for some drinks. He found a tray filled with champagne glasses. He handed one to Mike before taking one himself.

Mike stared at the flute of bubbly pale golden liquid with awe. “This is definitely going on my list of not-so-failed dates ever.”

“So this is a date?” Harvey smiled over the rim of his glass. The coloring on Mike’s rosy red cheeks reminded him of their earlier tryst on top of the Roadster and on the saloon couch in his rooms. He would do anything to see that shade more often.

Mike’s steps faltered. “I mean, uh…”

“Relax,” Harvey said for the nth time in one night, clinking their glasses together. “It’s a party. We’re supposed to have fun. Will you at least relax?” He leaned in just to blow a hot breath against Mike’s ear. “Where’s the interesting man propositioned in my brother’s bar? Maybe you can point to me where he is.”

For that, Mike nipped Harvey’s bottom lip, too fast for anyone to really notice but the sting stays on Harvey’s mouth. He unconsciously ran his tongue over the throbbing flesh.

“Come and get me then—” Mike smirked, stopping dead in his tracks when he turned around. “Rachel?” He stared the woman who looks similarly stunned.

“Mike?” The voluptuous brunette asked, shocked and surprised. Clearly, she hadn’t seen Harvey. “What are you doing here in Gatsby’s party? I didn’t even know that you had an invitation! Why didn’t you tell me? If I knew you were coming, we could have come together! Would have saved me loads of trouble. You know how much I hate staying in the car alone with my father.”

“Rachel, I, uhm—”

“Mike’s here as my guest.” Harvey interrupted, slicing through the palpable awkwardness with next to no shame. On the contrary, he felt like it was his right to intrude seeing as he spoke the truth. Mike was here  _ with him _ and not some dark-haired socialite. “Who might you be, miss…?”

“Zane,” the woman replied.

He recognized the name immediately Robert Zane owned a couple of the bottling plants that Gatsby used to hold his moonshine. It was a new contract which offered them extremely low prices for questionable conditions that no good lawyer would ever allow. But, he was Harvey  _ fucking  _ Specter, and his moral compass wasn’t so straight—else, he wouldn’t survive this kind of work.

“You must be Robert’s daughter. My name’s Harvey Specter, Jay Gatsby’s attorney, I worked with your father on the recent bottling contract.” He forced his million-watt smile reserved for Gatsby’s clients and associates. No one could resist his Harvey Specter smile. This girl was no different. She’d answer anything he asked. “May I ask how you two are acquainted?”

Rachel slid up to Mike, who appeared visibly horrified with her actions.

“Mike’s my fiancé. We’ve been sweethearts since college.”

“Excuse me?” The outburst came from Mike.

Rachel held his upper arm with a death grip. “Look, Mike, I don’t know what else to say… you didn’t see what you think you saw, I promise—”

Mike yanked himself away, champagne spilling onto the floor with a splash. “What I  _ saw _ was you sleeping around with Logan! It wasn’t in some saloon or coat closet either. In  _ your bed _ , Rachel. You think I’d still want to marry you after that?  _ Jesus Christ _ , we weren’t even married yet, and with a  _ married _ man!”  

“Mike, come on, you know you’re being unfair. It was just one t—”

Thank god for loud music or else this little exchange would have already drawn a crowd. Harvey places himself between them, with a fake placating smile plastered on his face. “You might have had a little too much to drink, Miss Zane. How about you go to your father and ask him to take you home now?”

Rachel wasn’t having any of it. “Just who do you even think you are? This is between me and my fiancé! Why don’t  _ you _ stay out of it?!”

Never challenge Harvey Specter. When challenged, Harvey came in for the kill. “On the contrary, Miss Zane, Mike is my guest. And right now, you’re bothering my guest. So I highly recommend that you make yourself scarce before I ask security to make you scarce for me.”

“You can’t do that!” She protested, eyes blowing wide.

Harvey didn’t even bat an eyelash. He faced criminals, drug lords, the mafia, and nearly every slime ball the sleazy underworld of New York had to offer. Rachel was a fly facing an elephant.

“Would you like to try me?” He instinctively straightened up, making it look like he was scoping the ballroom for said security personnel. She folded, slinking back like a chicken with wet feathers.

“Mike, I still love you. Think about it, okay?” She disappeared into the crowd leaving Harvey and Mike in a tense silence.

“The food’s gone cold. How about we get new ones before we head to the table?” Harvey asked tersely, not quite understanding what had just happened but he didn’t want it to ruin their entire weekend. His gut told him that there was more to the story than meets the eye.

“Y—yeah,” Mike answered weakly, “That sounds good.”

They filled new plates, leaving the cold food at the start of the buffet. Harvey herded them to the VIP tables overlooking the dance floor. Mike had been hesitant at first, but eventually allowed himself to be ushered past the cordoned-off area. He flushed brightly when a couple of heads turned their way.

“Is this… are you sure we can stay here? No one else is sitting down.”

Harvey touches his leg underneath the table for reassurance. “Not really, look,” he pointed to other similar tables where a handful of people were sitting in small clumps. “Unless it’s pretty packed, we usually like tables to ourselves. Too many egos in one table is never good. Besides, after what happened, I thought you’d be thankful for a little privacy.”

“Yeah…” Mike noticeably tensed up. “Harvey, about Rachel, it’s… I…”

“Shhh,” Harvey shushed him. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it. It’s not like… we’re, you know… we’ve only just met anyway. Don’t let it ruin the night.” He feigned nonchalance as he cut into a nice tender piece of steak.

“Try that lamb one without the sauce first. I swear, it’s like Jay stole the chefs from Mt. Olympus or something.” He pointed to a piece of meat on Mike’s plate, nearly indistinguishable from everything else, and hoped that it would make the tension go away.

Mike eventually sighed. “Alright.” The tension remained though. It stayed until Mike bumped their knees together and offered a small apologetic smile.

***

After dinner, Harvey took Mike to the beachfront, one of the many perks of working for a man like Jay Gatsby apart from the weekly parties, the food and booze, and free accommodations. It had the best view of the fireworks while being deserted since most guests never stepped out of the mansion, giving them a small sense of privacy.

They walked side by side, Harvey with his jacket over his arm while Mike held his over his shoulder, holding their shoes in their hands. The sand felt wet under their feet, and the waters steadily came in, tickling their ankles. Their pant legs were folded at the hems to avoid getting drenched in salt water.

“Hey.” Mike bumped Harvey on the shoulder, pulling the older man out of his daze. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened inside and what happened with Rachel…” He trailed off, biting his lip. An action Harvey now recognized as one of Mike’s tells. “… but aren’t you even gonna ask?”

They stopped near the edge of the shore, water coming up to their ankles.

Harvey spun around to face him. “Mike, I like you, I really do, hell, I’ve never invited anyone to join me here before, that’s how much I like you, and I know we only just met but I want this—this thing between us—to work out. Is that something you’d like too?” He looked at Mike very carefully, accessing.

Mike could only stare back. “I…” His throat constricted. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good.” Harvey’s eyes shined with the moonlight, as he slowly walked Mike to a tree, pushing the younger man against the tree bark. Their lips nearly touched but didn’t touch, a temptation dangled on a short string. “I said to myself that I wouldn’t ask. Clearly, there was something between you and Rachel, so all I want to know is this;  _ is it over _ ?”  

“Yes,” Mike whispered it like a confession, hand coming up to cup Harvey’s elbow. “I swear. I ended it when I walked out of the door. I got a job at your brother’s and never looked back. It was over the night we met at the bar. God, I swear, I didn’t even remember the thing with Rachel until I saw her again. My mind’s been too preoccupied with—well, erhm, you.”

Harvey wanted to laugh but the look of pure sincerity on Mike’s face completely confounded him. He, instead, brought their lips together. There were no words or promises between them, just a quiet reassurance with every passing of lips against lips.

“I want to tell you,” Mike said when they pulled away. “I want to tell you because I  _ can _ and because it doesn’t matter to me now, all that’s over. So just… let me tell you, okay?”

“Okay.” Harvey nodded and pressed their foreheads together. “Okay.”

Mike did. “Rachel and I were highschool sweethearts back upstate before they moved. I went to Wharton, and she followed her family here. Yes, we were supposed to be married. We were young, and we were stupid. She asked  _ me _ to come down here and marry her. Well, maybe, I was stupid.” He snorted out bitterly.

“Let me guess, she thought your marriage would take heat from her being someone else’s mistress and expected you to go along with it? Is that it? What did she offer you back?”

Mike agreed on all accounts. “She convinced Robert to offer me a high position in his company. Chief Financial Officer. Can you believe that? Sky-high straight out of college with barely a year’s experience under my belt. A beautiful wife on my arm and a white picket fence property in the suburbs. It’s the American dream at any way you look at it.”

“And you don’t want that.” It came out as an observation than anything else.

“No.” Mike shook his head. “I thought I did but…” He turned at just the right moment that Harvey watched the flutter of his eyes. “Not anymore. I kind of like this. It’s new and dangerous but, yeah, if you’ll still have me after hearing all this shit, then yes  _ this _ is what I want.”

Harvey’s breath came out if puff of white fog. “It’s not going to be easy, you know, not for either of us.”

“Yeah, well…” Mike bit his lower lip. He leaned against the bark, pulling Harvey by his belt loops and angling up for a kiss. He dropped small careful kisses up the older man’s jaw before rubbing their thighs together lightly. “I’m the king of bad ideas.” He cupped the back of Harvey’s neck and brought their mouths together.

Loud bangs and bright lights, the first of the fireworks erupted overhead. The pair of newly formed lovers shared more kisses hidden in the shadows while the rest of the people gathered in the grandly lit viewing decks. It mirrored their long journey ahead towards acceptance. They would spend a long time hiding what they shared from public eye. A type of love like theirs would face difficulty at their current time but together they might make it.

Together, it was worth it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted an excuse to write Marvey in the 1920s. Imagine them in the roaring twenties--extravagance, luxury, spending money that isn't yours. I kept watching the 'Epic Party' in the movie which inspired a lot of the scenes in this story.
> 
> This is the last story for #Marveyweek Round 4. I hope ya'll like it. I had a great time writing all seven stories last month, and I cannot wait for Season 6 to be available in my country~ This was an absolute blast to do. Thank you for everyone who participated, and to our two awesome mods Aqua and Erin~ I'll be waiting for more events like this! 
> 
> For now though, I'll be shifting my energies to my other fandoms which I've neglected this past month in preparation for #Marveyweek. It's not a forever thing. It's just for now. I'll be spreading the love again soon~ 
> 
> As always, if you liked or enjoyed this fic, you should know what to do. **Comment/Kudos/Bookmarks** are always appreciated by this author. :) 
> 
> If you have a prompt or an idea, you can [INSPIRE ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/submit) on tumblr. Or [TALK TO ME](http://arh581958.tumblr.com/ask)


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